alrighty, hello all—here we go with chapter 3. thanks for the review & to all those who read! (i'm mostly a silent reader myself.) but here goes ch. 3 & just a tiny explanation:
this story is from a colored, limited omniscient 3rd-person POV. Mostly colored from Evelyn's POV (which may not always be reliable), with bits of other characters thrown in here & there. So we don't necessarily know other character's motives & such at times….so, if/when they act out of character (which they will--i think it speaks more about the characters, makes one wonder at their motives),or details are given that don't fit with what we all know to be true, then just give it two or so more chapters & things should start matching up. thanks!
disclaimer: I still own nothing….never have, and sadly never will.
Chapter 3: People in motion
Bruce Wayne. Of course Evelyn had heard of him. Boy billionaire born with a silver spoon in his mouth. It made her sick that he had such a life and chose to blow his money and image. Her father had spoken of Bruce Wayne, and thought him to be too idealistic and a waste. And as she surveyed the large staircase leading into his grand mansion of a house, she could easily see how a man living in a house on a hill could fit that description.
But the evening was not a total waste she decided, after all she was dressed in a gown she loved, and Jonathon looked to die for. His tux just further emphasized the sleek, occasionally arrogant suaveness that constantly surrounded him. Even though she knew they were fast becoming close from working together, she was still no closer to cracking the mystery surrounding him than the day she met him.
He seemed to know everyone and everyone seemed to know him. She felt almost lost at his side. She had no notable thesis to her name or anything unique about her. But Jonathon was most gracious and supportive, never leaving her to falter on her own. At times it felt like instead of being just friends and colleagues, they were a romantically linked couple. And most of the other guests seemed to think that way also.
"Dr. Crane," Mayor Donald Robertsgreeted warmly, reaching for Jonathon's hand, "it's been quite some time."
"Yes it has Mayor."
"And who is this lovely young woman at your side tonight?" Roberts' eyes fell on Evelyn.
"Donald Roberts, may I present Evelyn Werren, a good friend and colleague of mine." He never once said she worked for him or that he was her boss.
"A psychiatrist also Miss Werren?" Mayor Roberts asked interestedly.
"No sir, Jonathon and I just work together at Arkham."
"Yes, splendid work being done I hear," Roberts complimented, "and Dr. Crane—your thesis on fears and phobias—phenomenal and insightful."
"Why thank you," Jonathon answered, failing at keeping a humble tone to his voice, "fear has been an interest of mine for many years now." He smirked proudly. He certainly was arrogant at times; Evelyn had to give him that.
"My wife even read through it, and some of the ideas you presented helped us with our children and overcoming some of their childhood fears." Evelyn smiled warmly at the mayor as she rested her hand on Jonathon's arm. She hadn't read his thesis, but everything she'd heard about it was supportive. Jonathon tried to not to let his disappointment show through his eyes or small smile.
"Well I'm glad," he forced himself to say, keeping his stiff smile in place, "if you'll excuse me Mayor," he nodded respectfully at Roberts, "Evelyn." He brushed a chaste kiss across her cheek before disappearing in the crowd. Evelyn looked after him, a smile of surprise on her face. That kiss had been most unexpected.
"How long have you and Jonathon been together?" Roberts suddenly asked, catching Evelyn's attention.
"Oh…we're just friends." She shook her head embarrassedly, dismissively.
"Well it won't be too much longer before you two cross that line," Roberts said knowingly, "you're the first woman I've ever seen at his side at these things. We were beginning to wonder if he kept himself locked up in Arkham so much that he had no one close to him. I'm glad to be proven wrong." Roberts smiled warmly at Evelyn as she fought back an embarrassed flush. "Excuse me, Miss Werren. My wife is waving me down."
"Of course Mayor. Pleasure to meet you."
"And you." He nodded before weaving his way through the crowd to his wife.
Evelyn suddenly found herself alone, and it really wasn't as intimidating as she thought. She drifted to the refreshment table and found a champagne flute before retreating to a vacant corner, the perfect place to crowd watch.
She had yet to see Bruce Wayne. Her father had told her everything about him—how he lived his life wastefully. How he had money and skills to change the city of Gotham for the better, but chose to do nothing. Those comments coupled with the stories from locals who knew him to run around with models, buying expensive items pointlessly, only further fueled her opinion of him. Rich wastes like him made her sick…maybe even a tad bit jealous. He had everything wonderful in life and he chose to throw it all away. What she wouldn't give to have a life as perfect as the one she knew Wayne had.
She focused on a tall, trim man with smooth dark brown hair and warm chocolate eyes. That most certainly had to be Bruce Wayne—he looked different than his picture in the paper, but it was still him. There was no mistaking that look of wealth and surety about him.
She could certainly see the handsome playboy appeal to him—what woman wouldn't be drawn to those eyes or that smile? And the confidence in his smile was overwhelming—it seemed as though he could take on anything thrown his way without even batting an eye. Yet there was also something reserved and drawn in about him. But she couldn't figure out what someone like him would have to hide.
Suddenly those chocolate eyes found hers, a curiously playful light in their dark depths. Startled at having been caught staring, she hoped it didn't register across her face. She watched his smile fall partly away and his eyes focus more intently on her.
Well, from what she could see, everything she knew about him was true. She turned from him, resuming crowd searching, not really caring if she saw the man again.
She rocked on her feet and tried to glance through to the crowd to find Jonathon. There he was—speaking reservedly with a large man in a tux near the donation table. She thought about walking over to him, but first decided to drop off her champagne glass. She turned back towards the table, startled at the man now standing next to her.
"Not enjoying yourself this evening?" He suddenly asked, his voice smoother and humbler than she'd thought it to be.
"Not at all, Mr. Wayne. It's a lovely evening." She answered, a lack of true sincerity in her words.
"No I agree with you—it's almost too stuffy for me too."
"You and I have nothing in common." A look of surprise washed over his face.
"Oh really, Miss…?"
"Werren," she forced herself to say before turning from him, "Evelyn Werren."
"Welsh?" He suddenly asked. She turned to face him, surprise breaking through her countenance.
"From Swansea, yes," she answered, clearly surprised, "you've an ear for accents Mr. Wayne, I'll give you that." She forced an indifferent note to her voice.
"That may be the nicest thing you've said since we've met. And it's Bruce, Evelyn." She discreetly rolled her eyes, half-smiling, "I don't seem to remember your name on the guest list—"
"No, I came with a friend—Jonathon Crane." She quickly said, before finishing off the champagne, not wishing to continue the conversation any further.
"And how is the good doctor these days?"
"You know him?"
"Not personally," he answered, "I've heard his name."
"Oh," Evelyn said disinterestedly, nodding her head, "well, he seems to be doing fine."
"You don't sound too sure." Sheturned from him,as she shrugged her shoulders, lazily, uncertainly. A twitchy silence fell between them as she found nothing to say.
"Well…," he started cordially, for lack of anything better to say, "I hope the rest of your evening goes better."
"Who says it hasn't gone well?" He froze and tried to hide an embarrassed smile.
"I would think that obvious." He said knowingly asshe turnedto face him,realizing he meant her attitude towards him.
"You want the truth, Mr. Wayne?" She simply, respectfully asked. "If Jonathon had not asked me to come, then I would never have willingly set foot in your house." He nodded, as though already knowing why.
"You're entitled to your opinion." She laughed quietly at the conceding smile on his face.
"You're so humble about your arrogance."
"My 'arrogance?'" She raised a hand to stifle another small laugh at the bemused smile on his face before it fell away. "Well, people will believe what they want." She froze at the raw truth in his voice.
"Won't they just." She agreed quietly, maybe even ashamedly, her eyes falling from his.
"Excuse me Evelyn." He barely registered her silent nod out of the corner of his eye before moving away. The conversation had taken a direction he did not wish to continue. And she made it quite clear she wanted nothing to do with him.
At the moment he couldn't say it bothered him, even though he'd imagined their meeting going so much differently…. No matter now, he finally reasoned. After all, Evelyn was here with dear friend, Jonathon Crane.
Bruce picked up a champagne flute and turned back in the direction he'd just come from. The respectable Dr. Crane was now at Evelyn's side and he noticed her softened expression. She wasn't overly beautiful, just elegant in a classical sort of way—too bad her words didn't match. Her form fitting dress, a dark burgundy, hugged her small frame in a tasteful way, contrasting perfectly with her light skin. Reminded him of rich merlot and soft feta—both excellent together and classic, in an almost romantic sort of way.
And judging from the look on her face, she seemed interested in the dear doctor at her side. Bruce watched a half smile grace her face before she looped her arm around Crane's offered arm, and they walked off towards the foyer. Curious still, he watched them, unwilling to let Evelyn out of his sight so quickly. It was with more than just a friendly air that Crane slipped a cloak around Evelyn's shoulders before leaning in and softly kissing her cheek.
Well, Bruce thought their relationship worked—two snobs who deserve each other. He finished off the champagne and resumed mingling.
well there it is. ch. 4 should be up by the end of the week or so...depends on my workload. Hope you enjoyed! Post a review if you feel so inclined, and if not—thanks for reading anyway!